The Horrors of Fanart
by Stephy-Lou Clark-Weasley
Summary: sequel to Horrors of Fanfiction and Fangirls. John has now discovered fanart unfortunately Scotland Yard discovered it first


**Author's Note: **this is the sequel to The Horror's of Fanfiction and The Horror's of Fan Girls. Please enjoy.

_Hey John, check this out, it's really good, think Mum would like it on her birthday card? H xx _

John prepared himself for something that was totally Harry (weird, insane, bonkers, just a little more sane than Sherlock) or something terrible flowery and sugary sweet (just like their mother) when he clicked onto the link.

He was not expecting a full blown out cartoon picture of him and Sherlock snogging in the nude!

Furiously he replied to his sister's email, _Harry are you trying to give our mother a heart attack?_

_Not even going to try and deny it this time? _Was Harry's infuriating reply.

John decided not to dignify that with a response. If it appeared he was ignoring Harry it would drive her insane more effectively than trying to argue his point. _Why does everyone think I'm gay?_ He thought to himself furiously as he explored the website Harry sent to him_, apart from one snog that we did to keep the fan girls off our backs we've done nothing to suggest we're nothing but friends. _

Some of the art on the website was actually really good. There was so much talent in the sketches and paintings of just his or Sherlock's profile. Some were of Lestrade which were equally just as good. Half of the other art pieces were those typical romantic images that teenagers seem to like (he assumed they were teenagers, he hoped they were, he really didn't want to know if someone his own age shipped him and Sherlock), some were rather amusing cartoon that made him snigger a bit to himself. Then there were a couple of them crossed over with another fandom. He liked the Sherlock meets the Doctor ones, he would never get any peace with that bickering going on but then again he could have a cup of tea with whatever hot companion the Doctor had and try and convince her to go on a date with him.

Not Donna though she reminded him too much of his sister.

_Oh dear lord_, he thought to himself, _I'm turning into a fan girl_.

Suddenly the door slammed open and John quickly slammed his laptop shut. He didn't want Sherlock to find out what he had just been looking at. _Not that the sneaky bugger wouldn't figure it out_, he grumbled to himself.

"What were you doing?" Sherlock asked.

"Nothing!" John lied quickly.

"I can't even bring myself to care about believing you or not," Sherlock said expressionlessly, "but if you're going to watch porn can you at least do it in the privacy in your bedroom, Mrs Hudson does come in here all the time, now get your coat on there's been a triple homicide and Lestrade wants us at the station."

Ignoring John's spluttering Sherlock threw his coat at John and then dragged his so called best friend (John is so certain that best friends shouldn't treat each other the way Sherlock treats him) by the wrist and out of the flat only to fling him in a waiting Taxi.

John is struggling to remember why he didn't want a quiet and peaceful life.

SHSHSHSHSH

John and Sherlock's mouths dropped open in a mix of shock, horror, and feeling rather disturbed. The whole of Scotland Yard was wallpapered – yes wallpapered! – In fan art.

"Pathetic," Sherlock sneered as he tore down several of the pictures down.

"Doesn't Scotland Yard have something better to do than print off these pictures and stick them all over the place?" John moaned as he helped Sherlock yank them off the wall.

"Obviously not and that is why we've been called in more often. These imbeciles are obviously too busy playing with their computers and searching for embarrassing fictional pictures of us that they're not doing anything to help solve a crime. I pity the population being stuck with this shoddy protection."

"Oh this is just awful," John said holding up a badly drawn picture. It was two stick men one with a long line that was obviously supposed to be a piece of male anatomy as the other stick man was bent over a line that might be a desk or something. "Who drew this?"

"Obviously Anderson he has the same amount of maturity, talent, and intelligence as a goldfish does," Sherlock said pulling the picture out of John's hand and scrunching it up before throwing it behind his back.

"Now Sherlock," John chided him, "there's no reason to insult the goldfish."

They glanced at one another before busting into a hysterical fit of laughter. It was difficult to start once they started and then suddenly John began to choke on his own spit causing Sherlock to attempt to Heimlich manoeuvre.

There was a bright flash causing them to pause and turn to see Sally smirking with her camera.

"I just can't wait to photo shop this baby," she snickered before running off.

There was a tense silent moment as Sherlock and John just realised what had happened.

"I can kill her, can't I?" Sherlock asked darkly.

"Not if I get there first," was John's equally dark reply.


End file.
